


Snow

by markymark261



Category: DCU - Comicverse, Edward Scissorhands (1990), It's a Wonderful Life (1946), Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Humor, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-20
Updated: 2012-03-20
Packaged: 2017-11-02 06:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 14,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markymark261/pseuds/markymark261
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A stranger tells Clark Kent what Smallville would have been like if Clark had never come there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story's based on an idea by DuMont over at KryptonSite. Also the name of my lead character was suggested, entirely in jest, by Evil Lil' Katbird in a review of my story "Taller And Not So Fluffy" but, all things considered, it was a lot better than my idea of calling him Albert.

Hi, my name's Alex. You won't know me, but you'll probably know my Dad, Pete. Anyway, he's the reason I'm back in Smallville. What? You haven't heard what happened to him? Well, I could tell you the truth or I could tell you Dad's version:

_It was a cold December night and, somewhere in Smallville, the snow fell thick and fast around a small deserted house. As soon as the snow had stopped, the house was momentarily turned upside down and then the snow began once again. As Pete Ross looked at the snow falling in the glass globe he held in his wrinkled hand, he remembered a night long ago - the only night it had ever snowed in Smallville, and he wouldn't have even noticed it if she hadn't pointed it out. And then he felt something stir in his heart and then he felt the pain and fell to the ground, the snow globe dropping from his hand, and, with what he thought would be his last breath, he uttered one word:_

_Lana_

Well, that's my Dad – turning a heart attack into Citizen Kane. He's always been that way, ever since I've known him. When I was young he used to tell me these ridiculous stories about how Superman came from Smallville and how he was his best friend. And I believed him, for years I did, and he made me swear never to tell anyone. And I didn't … not for the longest time … and the moment I did I regretted it.

For the next couple of weeks at school I was the object of ridicule, the butt of the jokes. Some kids sniggered behind my back, some straight to my face. Superman was from Smallville? Absurd.

But that wasn't the worst thing. The worst thing was that my Dad had lied to me. After that I could never trust him again, never believe anything he said. Also, ridiculous as it sounds, he treated me differently, as if I'd betrayed his trust by sharing his lies. At the risk of being melodramatic, and sounding a little bit like a line from one of my Dad's stories, a rift had opened between us and it would never heal.

But that was a long time ago and I'm back now, trying to make peace with my Dad in his final days, but it isn't easy. Until recently, there was just me and some girl from the hospital looking after him – she dresses all in pink, just like my late Mother, go figure. Then that changed, last night, when some old friend of my Dad, Clark, shows up. He must be about my age. Turns out he's from Metropolis, home of Superman, and somehow I got round to telling him about Dad's stories:

"He'd come into my room every night, and each night he'd have a different word – Hourglass, Shattered, Delete, Heat – whatever. And then he'd start one of his stories."

"One word titles – just like that TV series," Clark replies.

"Huh?"

"Lou Grant," he says, and, seeing my puzzled look, continues. "Way before your time. Perry, our editor, always used to mention it at The Planet whenever someone would dare to come up with a one word headline. Remember, he'd say, this is the greatest paper in the world, that was just a Tribune. Lois, my wife, told me it was an attempt at a Tenacious D pun - Perry loved his novelty rock acts. I can tell by your expression that I should shut up now."

It was as if the guy was trying to be nerdy, but I decided to be as diplomatic as I could:

"No, that was really insightful. Where was I? Yeah, he'd start with one word and then launch into a story. Each one must have gone on for nearly an hour."

"Do you remember any of them?"

"I remember them all.

"And what was your favorite?"

"Well, I guess it would have to be Dad's favorite. Want to hear it?"

Clark nods, and so I prepare to start the story.

"Well, before we start, I better tell you that Dad always refused to tell me Superman's real name. It was for my own safety, or so he said. Anyway, to drag me into the action, he'd give Superman my name, Alex. So I guess, now that I'm the narrator, it's only fair that I do the same, so for this story, and this story alone, Superman's name is Clark Kent. Doesn't sound quite right, but still, never mind. Also, I'll have to swap from first-person to third person – that'll take some doing, Dad always took center stage in these stories. Anyway, it's time to begin, the way Dad always did:"

_Today's word is … Snow._


	2. Stranger In The Night

It was Clark's last night in Smallville, and Pete Ross had just gotten home from the celebrations. He'd possibly had a bit more to drink than he should have. In fact, it was possible that he was more drunk now than he would ever be again in his entire life. He was so drunk in fact that anything was possible, and so, after having a shower, changing his clothes and drinking some food coloring, he stopped listening to his head (that had stopped making sense many hours ago) and started listening to his heart. His heart was telling him to ask Lana Lang out, and that was what he was going to do. Besides, if knowing Clark Kent all these years had taught him anything, it was the misery that an unrequited love for Lana could bring.

Thus it was that Clark and Lana's moonlit walk home was interrupted by a staggering Pete Ross, who, now that his legs had accomplished their mission of reaching Lana, promptly fell over in front of them.

The two rushed over to him. Lana picked him up and saw his bright red tongue.

"Clark, get help. I think he's bleeding internally."

"No," explained Pete, staring into Lana's face, pleased by the concern it showed. "It's red food coloring."

"What? Is this some kind of sick joke? You wanted us to think you were hurt?" asked Lana, as she dropped Pete back on the ground.

"No," said Pete, as he got up and fell down again. "I came to ask you out but was afraid I might throw up - I thought that, at least this way, it would come out pink. That is your favorite color, isn't it?"

Clark burst out laughing. That was the stupidest thing, not to mention the most rhetorical question, that he'd ever heard.

Lana kneeled down next to Pete again. "Awww, Pete, that's so sweet."

As Lana helped Pete back up, she looked up at Clark - the boy she really wanted to ask her out, but it looked like now he never would. "Clark, you go home. I'll take care of Pete."

"But, Lana, I …" Clark started. It was his last night in Smallville and there was still so much he had to say.

"It's OK. I can handle him on my own. You go. I don't want to spoil your last night here."

"OK. Bye, Lana," he said, and turned away. Tears welled up in both their eyes as the words they both wanted to hear remained unsaid.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Clark Kent was standing on a bridge, gazing into the distance, thinking about Lana. Gradually his thoughts moved on to bigger things ... to his life in Smallville.

"So, Kal-El, Last Son of Krypton, ever wondered what would have happened in Smallville if you'd never come along?"

Clark turned around in surprise. Ever since his super-hearing arrived, nobody had managed to sneak up on him undetected. He looked at the stranger, who was clad in a long black cloak along with an equally black hat, the brim of which cast a shadow over the upper half of his face.

"Who are you? How do you know my name?"

"Does it matter? I'm just a stranger, nobody important. Your secret's safe with me."

Clark looked again at the stranger. It was a warm night and the stranger's garb confused Clark almost as much as the stranger himself.

"Aren't you a bit over-dressed?"

"Haven't you heard? Snow's been forecast?"

"You've got to be kidding. It never snows in Smallville. What sort of idiot would forecast snow?"

"I did," replied the stranger calmly. "Now, as I said before, would you like to see what would have become of Smallville if you'd never arrived."

"Why, who are you? An angel?"

"Might have been once. Hard to remember. Not done anything like that recently, though. Why do you ask?"

"What you said. It made me think about that film."

"Edward Scissorhands?"

"No," replied Clark, utterly confused by the stranger's reply. "I meant _It's A Wonderful Life_."

"Haven't seen that one. I've only ever seen Edward Scissorhands. Sorry."

"Anyway, in _It's A Wonderful Life_ this angel shows Jimmy Stewart what would have happened to his town if he'd never existed."

"Oh, the old parallel world schtick. No, that's a bit predictable and slightly voyeuristic. I was just going to make up a story."

"OK, but can you make it quick."

"Of course. I'd hate to interrupt your important bridge-standing. It all starts with one word."

"One word?"

"Snow"


	3. History Never Repeats

The year was 1989. The month was October. The place was Smallville. Up until that time it had been known as _The Cream Corn Capital Of The World_ , but all of that was about to change.

Somewhere in a flattened cornfield, Lionel Luthor almost choked on his heart-shaped cookie when he found a lock of Lex's hair lying on the ground. Looking around frantically, he finally found Lex's body, hidden beneath some cut-down corn stalks. As he pulled the stalks away, he recoiled with horror at what they revealed. His son was lying there, shivering, bald, his red hair and his inhaler lying beside him. Lex opened his mouth to speak ...

* * *

Jonathan and Martha Kent were travelling back to their farm when suddenly Jonathan's vision was obscured by a swirling mass of corn stalks coming from a cornfield. Suddenly, amongst the stalks, Jonathan saw a figure in black. Swerving to avoid him, the red station wagon he was driving went into the cornfield and overturned.

The next thing Jonathan and Martha knew, they were both upside down in the upturned vehicle. Staring through their window, they saw a darkly-clothed figure walking towards them, bent over at the waist, his head tilted to one side. It looked like he was carrying weapons.

* * *

Lionel left Lex to the care of the paramedics. As his helicopter took off he looked down at the cornfield where he'd just been, and noticed that not all of the corn had been flattened. There was a pattern to it, and that pattern formed a giant S symbol. A chill ran down Lionel's spine as he remembered the two words that Lex had kept repeating when he found him:

"Scissor Hands"

* * *

"Whoa," said Clark. "You've got to be kidding. You're replacing me with Edward Scissorhands."

"Like I said, it's the only movie I've ever seen. Who would you prefer?"

"Warrior Angel, maybe."

"Excuse me, Clark, but I hardly think you're in the same league.

"But Edwards Scissorhands. It's so unbelievable."

"It's a fable, Clark. You don't have to believe it in your head … just your heart. Now, if you'll allow me to continue…"

* * *

The year was 2001, and things had changed. Smallville was now _The Crop Circle Capital Of The World_ , and a young man called Edward Kent prowled the corridors of Smallville High in his long flowing black coat with ridiculously large pockets.

"Hey, Eddie. Trying out for the football team this year?" asked his best friend, also attired from head to toe in black.

"No. My parents told me it was best that I didn't."

"Parents - who needs them? The number of times I've wished mine were dead. Take last night for examp-"

But Edward was no longer listening, for the love of his life, Chloe, was just passing by.

"Hello, Chloe," said Edward.

"Hi, borg and borg queen," she said dismissively, and turned her attention back to the boy she was with, Whitney. He, and the football team, were the only interesting thing in this town. Sure, there were the crop circles, but they'd been going on for a decade and were old news.

"Ignore her, Eddie. She's superficial, just interested in looks. You'll never attract her with your hair."

"But, ..."

"Don't waste your time, loverboy. Anyways, got to get going now, lessons to skip, laws to break, see ya."

"Bye, Lana."

* * *

It was later in the day, and Edward Kent stood on a bridge, thinking, in whatever way his mechanical mind thought, about Chloe.

Meanwhile, Lex Luthor was driving along towards that same bridge. He was wearing a black jacket and beneath that was a Warrior Angel T-shirt. As he came towards the bridge, he reached for his designer inhaler. Suddenly, before he knew it, he'd hit something and the car was out of control, heading towards someone clad in black, someone eerily familiar.

In the brain that lay in the head that lay beneath his red shoulder-length hair, repressed memories threatened to bubble to the service. Fortunately, before that could happen, Lex was underwater and unconscious.


	4. A Farewell To Arms

A moment ago Edward had been standing on a bridge thinking about Chloe. But then he'd heard the car rushing towards him and he'd barely had time to take his scissors out of their pockets before the car smashed into him, crushing his legs. As he and the car broke through the side of the bridge and started falling towards the water, Edward looked at the car's driver. It was a face he recognized immediately - a face that had haunted his thoughts for the last twelve years. Of course it had gotten older, but it was still just as terrified.

As Edward entered the water, his mind went back to that day all those years ago. The day when he'd first encountered Lex Luthor. But, first of all, he'd encountered Lionel.

* * *

Edward's life had seemed complete at the time. All that was missing were his hands ... but that was about to change. Of course things had a nasty habit of getting in the way. First, his creator had been busy diverting a meteor shower that had been coming towards Smallville...

* * *

"Whoa again," exclaimed Clark. "Does that mean I'm in the story?"

"No," said the stranger wearily.

"But if the meteor shower was diverted I must have ended up somewhere."

"Well, if you really want to know, Clark, the meteors landed in Gotham City. Unfortunately on that fateful day a young boy named Bruce witnessed a meteor killing his parents Thomas and Martha. Now, having your parents killed by a meteor affects people in different ways. Some turn to drink, some turn to pink, but this boy vowed on his parents' grave to destroy anything and everything associated with the meteors. Years later, teaming with Virgil Swann and wearing a silly outfit, he tracked you down. To cut a long story short, you never stood a chance, kid."

"Well, couldn't you tell me the long version of that story instead. At least I'm in it."

"No, it's dull. This one's got Lionel and Lex - bad guys are far more interesting. Which brings me back to the story..."

* * *

The second thing that got in the way of Edward's creator providing him with his hands was a meeting with Lionel Luthor. In fact his creator was holding those very hands as he went to talk to Lionel.

"So what have you been spending my money on all this time?" asked Lionel.

"His name's Edward," The Inventor replied, waving Edward's hand in Edward's direction. "He's the future of warfare."

Lionel beckoned The Inventor towards him with his index finger, and then in a hushed voice asked "So what makes him so special? Super-speed? Invulnerability? Can he fly? Shoot death rays out of his eyes?"

"He's got a heart," was The Inventor's reply.

"A heart. What use is a heart?" asked Lionel, raising his voice.

"All weapons should have a conscience. Otherwise what would happen if they fell into the wrong hands? They could be misused"

Lionel had heard enough of this nonsense. If weapons had consciences they'd never be used. Besides, androids were so last year. Genetics - that's where the future lay. "I'm sorry. Your funding's cancelled," exclaimed Lionel.

"But, but you can't. Please ..."

"I've made my decision. Now, if you'll ..."

But Lionel's words stuck in his throat as he saw The Inventor suddenly go pale, dropping Edward's hands on the ground, and grabbing at his chest. Then, in what seemed like slow motion, he started to fall, grabbing hold of Lionel's coat on the way down.

Lionel prised the dying man's fingers from his coat, leaving The Inventor to drop down on the floor dead, and then Lionel looked around the room. He noticed some cookies, of numerous shapes, lying on a nearby conveyor belt. He grabbed a handful and put them in his coat pocket - he'd be able to share those with Lex later. Then he picked up Edward's hands - there was always a market for high-grade prosthetics.

And then he looked over at Edward, who was looking back at him.

"Don't worry. I'll send a team over to clear up," he said, smiling, as he waved goodbye to Edward with one of Edward's hands.

After that, things were a bit of a blur in Edward's memory. He remembered wanting revenge on Lionel. He remembered attacking Lex in the cornfield. He remembered seeing the terror on Lex's face and knowing what he was doing was wrong. He remembered fleeing from Lex only to wander into the path of the Kents' station wagon. The Kents had looked after him - keeping him hidden for all those years, teaching him about the world.

And now he was at the bottom of a river, with his legs broken, looking at the older Lex trapped in his submerged car.

It was time to make amends for all those years ago.


	5. Lex Dies

Tragically The Inventor was an inventor (which was why he called himself The Inventor) rather than a salesman. If he'd been a salesman, he would have mentioned to Lionel that Edward was designed to live forever. Immortality - that would have been a selling point to interest Lionel. Of course, as you probably know, immortality isn't easy to achieve - it usually takes forever - and, in order to achieve it, a set of nanites were on constant vigil throughout Edward's body performing any necessary repairs.

It was thanks to these nanites that, by the time Edward had used his scissors to claw his way to the car holding Lex, feeling was already starting to return to his legs.

As he clawed his way onto the car hood, he saw Lex sitting there unconscious, peaceful, with his inhaler floating next to him. Once upon a time, Edward would have been no use in this situation, but all of his years with Martha and Jonathan had taught him not to panic. Sure, this was going to be difficult, but it could never be as hard as milking that cow.

He drove his scissorhands into the shoulders of Lex's jacket, managing to avoid Lex's actual shoulders, and then used his bodyweight to lever Lex out of the car. Then came the difficult task of dragging him to the shore. Time was of the essence, but Edward's legs were not yet fully repaired, so, quicker than any human could, he walked on his knees to the shore, dragging Lex behind him - fortunately the jacket was well-made and managed to survive the journey intact, which was more than could be said of Lex. By the time Edward had managed to claw Lex and himself up to the shore, Lex was no longer breathing.

At which point, Edward decided to attempt mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. It took a long time, but Edward didn't give up, and finally, as he was kneading Lex's chest one more time with his elbow, Lex coughed up a mouthful of river and started breathing again.

By the time Lex opened his eyes, Edward's scissorhands were back in their pockets (he'd have to dry them soon - the nanites didn't protect the scissors and he didn't want to risk rusting).

The mud-drenched Lex, with his shock of red hair, looked at Edward kneeling next to him and a look of horror filled his face as the repressed memories finally came flooding back.

When Edward saw that look of horror, he realized that Lex would never forgive him for what he'd done all that time ago. So, saying nothing, and with a great sadness in his heart, he stood up, turned around and started limping away. As the nanites continued their work, the limp quickly became a walk and the walk quickly became a run.

Lex sat there, feeling the cuts on his lips, noticing the holes in his jacket.

"Scissor hands," he said stunned. After all these years, he'd begun to think that he'd dreamt it all. All those years of fears, afraid to walk outside alone, afraid to have a haircut ... and those fears were all because of one man. He remembered the lecture that his father had given him countless times. It was time to stop being afraid. He could never do that before - all his fears were internal - but now things had changed. Now, somewhere in Smallville, his fears were walking around with a white face and black hair.

It was time to conquer his fears. It was time to reclaim his life after all those wasted years.

While Lex sat there, making his plans for revenge, the paramedics arrived (he asked them who'd made the call, but unfortunately his nemesis didn't leave a name). Once they'd checked him out, and put some antiseptic on his lips, they offered him a ride home. But he refused. He walked home alone, for the first time in so many years. Where there had once been fear running through his veins, now there was vengeance. It was a new Lex Luthor who walked home that day. The old Lex Luthor was dead.


	6. Naked

As Heike lunged at him with her epee, he suddenly heard footsteps entering the Luthor ancestral home. As he felt her blade at his throat, he turned his head to see Lex standing in the doorway, covered in mud. He motioned to Heike to indicate that the match was over.

"Lex, what happened to you?" he asked, with concern in his voice, as he removed his fencing mask to reveal the face of Lex Luthor's best friend, Pete Ross.

"Bumped into an old acquaintance, Pete," replied Lex distantly. "Don't suppose you know him? Long black coat, white face, disturbed black hair."

"What did he do to you?"

"It doesn't matter. Do you know him?"

"But look at the state of you ..." and at that point Pete's comment were interrupted by Lex grabbing hold of his arm and placing a hand over his mouth.

"Please don't make me repeat myself, Pete," Lex requested, as he removed his hand from Pete's mouth.

Pete was stunned. He'd never seen Lex like this before in all the time he'd known him. "That's Edward ... Edward Kent ... Goes to Smallville High. What did he do to you?"

"Saved my life," replied Lex, relaxing his grip on Pete's arm. "I'm going to repay him."

And with that, Lex let go of Pete's arm and started to walk away, leaving Pete Ross standing there confused.

"By the way," Lex said, turning around just as he was on the verge of leaving the room, "I've decided to start fencing lessons, so Heike's going to be all mine from now on."

As Lex went through the door, and headed towards one of the many bathrooms to clean up, Pete stood there even more confused. How could Lex take fencing lessons? He was afraid of blades of all kinds - he'd hired Heike to try and get over his phobia but had failed to turn up for even his first lesson. He wasn't even sure why Lex still kept her around.

As Heike left the building, Pete Ross sat down, switched on the Smallville news and was greeted with the sight of Lex's Porsche being hoisted out of the river.

* * *

Chloe was sitting in The Torch's office, with Whitney attached to her face, when her phone went off. It was her friend Pete Ross, who she didn't really consider a friend at all. In fact she wasn't even sure if she actually had any real friends - all of her many friendships in Smallville High she'd initiated purely in the hope of finding a story somewhere that didn't involve either football or crop circles. How she wished that she lived in Gotham City. There never appeared to be a dull moment there, or so Vicki Vale's articles in Gotham High's school newspaper The Crusader would have her believe.

"Thanks, Pete, sounds like a front page," she said as she closed her cell phone, pushed Whitney away, and looked at the local newsfeeds on her laptop.

"Sorry, Whitney. Duty calls. It looks like I've got my main headline. Can you come back in thirty?"

"Sure, Chloe," moaned Whitney resignedly. "What's the big story? Another crop circle?"

"No, it's Edward Kent. He saved Lex Luthor's life after Lex drove off a bridge. Who'd have thought it - Kai saved Lex."

Whitney just nodded, pretending to understand what Chloe was saying. It was no doubt some highfalutin literary reference intended to make him look dumb. "Well, see you, Chloe."

Chloe waved to him, as she concentrated on her laptop.

* * *

Thirty minutes later Whitney wandered back into The Torch's office. It was his turn to be Chloe's big story again.

"Hey, Whit, all finished. What do you want to do?"

A smile came to his face, and then some long-haired guy pushed him aside.

"My name's Lex Luthor, Miss Sullivan. I've got a story for you."

Whitney pushed himself up to Lex. "Hey, Chloe. Want me to deal with this creep? We need a scarecrow for this year."

"No, it's OK. You better leave us. Don't worry, I can handle Comic Book Guy. See you tonight, OK?"

Whitney nodded, and then left the room.

" So, Lex ... Lex ..."

"Sorry, Miss Sullivan. My mind was on other things."

"Call me, Chloe. So, what have you got?"

And then Lex told her his tale. It started off with the tale of his first encounter with Edward. A tale he'd told numerous times to numerous therapists, but they'd all been searching for hidden meanings when there were none to be found. And then he moved on to his recent encounter with Edward.

Chloe listened intently, unable to believe what she was hearing. Finally the tale was over and she just had one thing to say:

"Thanks, Lex. Leave it with me. I'll see what I can do."

"You don't believe a word, I've said, do you, Chloe?"

"Well, I realize that Eddie always keeps his hands in his pockets, but that's because he got his hands caught in a mechanical corn picker as a child. Anyone round here can tell you that. This Eddie Krueger story of yours seems, and I say this with all due respect, totally bananas. Are you sure that the doctors shouldn't check your brain after that accident of yours?"

"I'd advise you to take me seriously, Miss Sullivan"

"Hey, listen, Lex. It doesn't matter how much you try to act cool like Fonzie, you still remind me of Richie."

Lex got up, without a word, and headed towards the door.

"Hey, wait a minute, Lex. I didn't mean that," shouted Chloe.

Lex stopped, and turned to face Chloe.

"I meant Ralph Malph."

A fuming Lex walked out of The Torch's office, cursing his red hair. And then there was Chloe Sullivan ... ever since the accident, Lex had thought he was a changed man, but maybe he was only fooling himself - maybe it was a case of The Emperor's New Clothes and Chloe had seen what he hadn't seen, that he was really naked all along. No, he could not allow himself these thoughts, he needed to do something to prove to himself that he was no longer the frightened child he once was. But first there was a small matter of vengeance.

* * *

Chloe Sullivan sat back in her chair, looking at the endless headlines about football and crop circles on her Door Of Snore. And then she looked back to the local newsfeed on her laptop and saw Smallville's latest crop circle. Of course they weren't just circles, they were works of art, but this one caught Chloe's attention more than any other. It was her face carved into the field.

Suddenly, Lex's tale didn't seem so ridiculous after all and the crop circles no longer seemed so boring. It was the worst-kept secret in Smallville High that Edward Kent had a crush on her, and if he really did have scissors for hands, as Lex claimed, then she'd just found her biggest story.

Within seconds she was phoning Pete Ross to ask him for Lex's cell phone number.

* * *

Chloe arrived at the restaurant to find Lex sitting there.

"Hi, Lex. Sorry I was so beastly to you earlier, it's just been one of those days."

"That's all right, Chloe. I hope Whitney's not too upset about our meeting."

"Don't know. Don't care. He wasn't answering his phone. Probably stuck in a field somewhere. Stupid football practice."

Lex smiled and poured Chloe a glass of wine. "His loss is my gain."

Before this night, Chloe had always thought of Lex, when she'd thought of him at all, as some nerdy comic book geek, but as the night wore on, and he shared with her stories about his life, both hilarious and heart-breaking, she began to see something in him she'd never seen before. However, this still didn't prepare her for what Lex suggested at the end of the meal, but Lex was a hard man to refuse.

* * *

Late that night, in the Luthor ancestral home, Lex sat down on a chair, while Chloe ran her hands through his hair. Then she turned away to switch the radio on, and then, still intoxicated from the wine, started dancing around in front of him.

"It's been a long time since I did anything like this," he admitted.

"Don't worry, Lex, I'll be gentle with you."

As Stealer's Wheel started playing on the radio, Chloe picked up the razor and held it next to Lex's head.

"Are you sure, Lex?"

"I'm sure."

As the red locks of hair fell to the ground, Lex remembered that day back in the cornfield, and old fears threatened to re-emerge ... but they didn't. He was stronger now, stronger than ever. And soon he wasn't even noticing the blade touching his skin, but rather looking at Chloe, and the look on her face - as if she'd just unwrapped a parcel and found the greatest present in the world inside. As his hand reached out to Chloe's body, he thought of Whitney, stuck out in that field, tied up with an S painted on his chest. Just as helpless as the "scarecrow" who'd watched his plight all those years ago. Revenge was fun, and it was about to get better.


	7. Field Of Dreams

Edward Kent loitered in the school corridor, in one of his many long black coats, waiting for someone to open the door to class so that he could follow them in - sometimes it was hard not having proper hands. Suddenly he heard Lana's voice:

"Hey, Eddie. Are those your hands in your pockets or are you just pleased to see me?"

"Hi, Lana," he said, turning to face her. "Both," he added, answering her question with what Lana took to be a deadpan feigned innocence.

"So where were you yesterday, Ed? Didn't see you around much."

"I was busy," he said, thinking back to a day that had started, near enough, with his rescuing of Lex Luthor, and finished, near enough, with Edward looking down at the moonlit face of Chloe Sullivan beneath him.

* * *

Following his rescue of Lex Luthor, and his calling of the paramedics, Edward's head had still been full of the events of that day twelve years ago. It was meant to be a warning to Lionel Luthor but, as he'd realized in the intervening years, it was also an attack on an innocent young boy. For the first time in all those years, he returned to the field where it had all taken place, the S symbol he'd carved now gone. He couldn't erase the memories, but he could so something to take his mind off them. And so, taking his metallic hands out of his pockets, he began to sculpt the cornfield into the most beautiful thing he could think of - Chloe Sullivan's face.

* * *

"So, did you see Chloe on the news last night, Eddie?"

"What?"

"That crop Chloe they discovered in that field. You must have seen it."

"Yeah, I saw it. It was beautiful ... just like Chloe."

"Yeah, just like Chloe - best appreciated from a distance. So, if aliens are behind these crop circles like your Dad reckons, do you think Chloe's their leader?"

Edward looked at Lana with his sad face.

"Sorry, Eddie. Just kidding. I know you're smitten with her. Know how you feel, this unrequited love thing makes me want to smash my head against a wall."

While Lana waited in vain for Edward to ask her what she was talking about, Edward's mind was twelve hours in the past.

* * *

"What did you think you were doing?" asked Jonathan, as he saw Chloe's corn visage on the television screen. "I don't mind giant S symbols or stars or hearts or cows, but Chloe? How am I supposed to keep convincing the townspeople that it's aliens behind these crop circles when Chloe's face suddenly shows up."

"I couldn't help it," replied Edward, sorry that he'd upset Jonathan.

"You did a lovely job, Edward," added Martha supportively.

"Wouldn't it be easier if we just told the truth?" asked Edward, tired of all the lies he had to tell.

"We just want you to live a normal life, Edward," replied Jonathan. "Trust me, the minute that people found out the truth about you, all that would be over."

"But I wouldn't be living a lie."

And with that, the conversation ended, as conversations usually do, with silence.

* * *

"Speak of the devil," whispered Lana in Edward's ear, as Chloe came towards them.

"Well, Edward Kent, just the person I wanted to see," exclaimed Chloe, a smile lighting up her face as she aimed her full charm at Edward and totally ignored Lana.

"Don't trust her, Eddie. She must want something," warned Lana.

"Ignore Gothzilla. My office. One hour's time. That okay with you?"

A tongue-tied Edward stared at Chloe in disbelief and nodded.

Just as soon as Chloe had left them, Whitney came running after her. Suddenly he spotted Edward and Lana.

"Hey, man," he said, patting Edward's shoulder, "thanks for last night." Then he winked at Edward and resumed his pursuit of Chloe.

"What was all that about?" asked Lana.

"Nothing," replied Edward.

* * *

After the conversation with Jonathan, Edward had needed to get out, and so he had decided to return, once again, to the field where it had all started, to gaze, once more, at Chloe's gigantic face. As he slowly made his way through the tall stalks of corn that formed part of her hair, he came across a naked Whitney facing him, tied to a cross with an S painted on his chest.

"Help me," groaned Whitney, his voice hoarse from long-ago abandoned attempts to shout for help.

Edward stared for a moment at his rival for Chloe's affections and then walked right past him. As Whitney's head slumped down in disappointment, he suddenly heard the cutting of ropes and then he was falling into the corn.

"What happened to you?" asked a curious Edward, looking down at the prostrate Whitney.

"Doesn't matter," replied Whitney, and then, realizing that he was stark naked, added "Don't suppose I could borrow your coat?"

Edward looked at the helpless, shivering Whitney, and decided that there was only one thing to do. He took off his coat, and threw it, as best he could, towards Whitney. Of course that meant that Whitney, and, before long, the world, would now know his secret, but Edward didn't care - fate had obviously decided that now was the time for the truth to be known. And so he stood there, his scissors by his side, waiting for Whitney's no-doubt scared reaction.

"Hey, you've got scissors for hands," exclaimed a surprised Whitney, talking to Edward as if Edward might not have noticed this fact. "That's so cool, All this time we thought you were packing heat."

As Whitney staggered to his feet, putting the coat on, he added, with a wink, "Don't worry, Edward. Your secret's safe with me. I owe you, man."

Edward smiled as Whitney staggered away. Maybe now wasn't the time for people to learn about him after all. Slowly he made his way up the cross that Whitney had vacated and spent the rest of the night looking at Chloe's face and wishing on the stars above.

* * *

As Edward followed Lana into class, he remembered all the times he'd wished on stars in the past, wishing that he could be human. Of course, Jonathan had told him that all that Pinocchio stuff was just make-believe but last night, in that field, he'd made himself believe, and what he'd wished for was Chloe. Maybe sometimes dreams did come true.


	8. The Importance Of Being Hair-Blessed

Chloe Sullivan entered her office with a spring in her step. Not only did she have the story of the century, but she also had Lex. It looked like it might be time to ditch dull, dependable Whitney, but then dull, dependable Whitney walked into the office and before long everything started to change.

"Do you know where that Luthor guy lives?" demanded Whitney, an angry look upon his face. "I'm going to make him pay for what he did."

"What did he do?" asked Chloe in mock innocence, trying to figure out how Whitney had found out about her night with Lex.

"He had me tied up in that Chloe field as a scarecrow," explained Whitney.

Chloe's relief was tinged with horror. She expected footballers to indulge in such acts of thoughtless, sadistic barbarism, but she didn't expect it of Lex. Still, the Chloe field was a nice touch - it meant he was still thinking about her.

"I'd still be there now," continued Whitney, "if Edward Kent hadn't happened by and cut me down."

"You saw Edward's hands?" asked Chloe, suddenly really interested in Whitney for the first time in a very long while.

Whitney looked at Chloe, and remembered what she did for a living, What a story Edward Kent would make for her. But he'd made Edward a promise, and he intended to keep it, even if it meant lying to Chloe:

"Sure, a few scars from that corn picker accident, but nothing remarkable. Why do you ask?"

"No reason," replied Chloe, but inside she was angry. Angry with Lex - he'd obviously made up that lame Scissor Hands story just to go out with her. Angry with herself - she should have seen right through him. The guy was obviously some kind of psycho - tying Whitney up, getting her to shave his head, probably even faking the car crash and getting his minions to create that Chloe crop circle. And then there was Whitney - she was angry with him too. She almost felt bad about that (after all, Whitney hadn't lied to her the way that Lex had) but he'd been the messenger, the destroyer of her story, the remover of her hopes and dreams. Nevertheless, he could still be useful.

Chloe pretended to search her rolodex for Lex's address, and then wrote it down on a post-it note and passed it to Whitney.

"Here's Luthor's address. Now go and exact your revenge."

"Thanks, Chlo."

"And, Whitney, if you're going for the obvious scarecrow revenge, could you please takes some photos for The Torch."

"Sure thing, Chloe. See you later."

As Whitney left the office, Chloe started clearing the clutter from her desk as a prelude to banging her head against it. And as she did so, she kept asking herself how she could possibly have been so stupid? A boy with scissors for hands - ridiculous. And besides, her unerring journalistic instincts had already decided long ago who was and wasn't newsworthy at Smallville High.

* * *

Not quite an hour later Edward Kent was wandering up and down one of the school's longer corridors in a desperate attempt not to be ridiculously early for his meeting with Chloe. As he looked at the clock on the wall, he decided now was the time, and so, with a mixture of trepidation and hope, he made his way to The Torch's office.

Chloe was looking at a blank screen, that had been that way all day, when she heard Edward Kent's head knocking on the door. Originally she'd planned on not opening the door for him, just to see what would happen, but now that she knew there was nothing particularly special about his hands, she just walked over and let him in.

"Hi, Chloe," announced a smiling Edward.

"Hi, Edward, I'm afraid I don't really need you here after all. Sorry about that."

"That's okay, Chloe," he replied as the smile slipped off his face.

Seeing the dejected look on Edward's face, and not wanting someone in her office more miserable than she was, she added "Oh, thanks for rescuing Whitney."

"That's okay, Chloe," replied Edward, his smile returning.

"And hey, Edward, Whitney told me about your hands."

"He did?" replied Edward, feeling slightly betrayed.

"Yeah, you really shouldn't be that sensitive about them. Sure, they're not perfect, but so what? You should let people see them. Sure, they'll stare a little at first, but after a couple of days people won't even notice."

"You really think so?" replied Edward, a tear coming to his eye.

Chloe smiled at Edward and nodded. It felt good being sympathetic to him and his malformed hands, and then again, it might even make a good human interest piece.

And so, slowly, Edward drew his hands out of his coat, and Chloe's smile grew wider and wider.

* * *

Lana was sat against the wall in the corridor when she saw Edward jauntily walking towards her.

"Hey, Eddie. What did Chloe want?"

Eddie sat down next to Lana, and the words just started to flow, in the exact same way that they didn't do when he was with Chloe:

"Well, first of all I thought I was going to get there early so I -"

And at that point Lana's cellphone's familiar "Slayer - Seasons in the Abyss" ringtone started to chime.

"Sorry, Ed, got to get this. I'll try and be quick."

Edward looked on with curiosity as Lana chatted into her cellphone, a look of boredom spreading across her face. With her index finger she drew a square in the air. Normally this meant that it was her parents, but Edward knew it couldn't be them. Lana had told him earlier how she'd got bored with them always checking up on her, so she'd diverted their number to the Smallville morgue - that would give them a shock the next time she broke her curfew.

Finally, Lana came off the phone.

"You'll never guess who that was, Ed. Pete Ross."

"Who?" asked Edward.

"You know, that quiet kid on the school bus. Haven't talked to him in ages. We used to be best buds but my teen rebellion phase didn't gel with his Captain Nice phase. Anyway, Pete Ross is Lex Luthor's best friend - well, to be precise, his only friend. Lex is this billionaire nerd guy if you don't know. They met around 10 years ago. Me and Pete were playing hide and seek in the woods near where Lex lived, and Pete found him there, sitting by a tree, shaking and sucking on his inhaler. Lex was trying to conquer this fear of going out he has, but was failing miserably. Anyway, Pete helped him home and they've been best friends ever since. Until today."

"What happened?"

"They had a falling out, as did Lex's hair."

"Sorry?"

"Before I explain, there's one thing I've got to check. Lex had this car accident yesterday. Apparently, according to Pete, you saved him."

Edward nodded.

"Boy, you sure are one dark horse. Are you keeping any other secrets from me?"

"Yes," Edward replied, nodding again.

"Ditto. Anyway, Pete goes round to check up on Lex this morning and Lex is completely bald. Anyway, after Lex reassures Pete that he's perfectly healthy and that this radical new hairstyle was a conscious choice, Pete does what any best friend would do in the circumstances and bursts out laughing. Upshot of it all is that Lex and Pete aren't talking anymore."

* * *

The stranger paused for a second and looked at Clark.

"You realize, Clark, that this is just the tip of the iceberg."

Clark looked at the stranger blankly.

"Hair!" proclaimed the stranger cryptically.

"Hair?" echoed a confused Clark.

"Yes, hair. That's the unfathomable force that binds the realities."

"Hair?" echoed Clark again, but this time echoing himself rather than the stranger.

"Hair, Clark. It's the most important thing in your many existences. It colors men's perceptions. Just as in this story I tell, where it's driven a rift between Lex and Pete, in some realities hair causes the rift between you and Lex."

"What?" asked an unbelieving Clark.

"There are countless parallel worlds, Clark, where Lex hates you because he blames you for his hair loss. Having said that, there are just as many parallel worlds where he hates you because you restored his hair, thus removing his cool shiny uniqueness."

"But hair can't make that much difference," protested Clark.

"Tell that to Lex. When he lost his hair in this reality, his relationship with Lionel, who no longer had anyone to carry on the family mane, was destroyed. Also, have you ever wondered the real reason why Jonathan detests Lionel so much. It's jealousy because, until he met Lionel, Jonathan thought he had the best hair in the world. And then there's the real reason why Jonathan wouldn't let you play football."

Clark looked at the stranger with even less comprehension than usual.

"Helmet hair," explained the stranger. "Hair. It's the reason for everything. The reason you prefer Lana to Chloe. The reason you turn out good and Lex becomes evil."

"That's stupid," observed Clark.

"If we were in the future, I'd back my claim up with Captain Marvel and Dr. Sivana," continued the stranger relentlessly. "Hair equals good, bald equals bad. For purely dramatic purposes I wish it was the other way round - a David and Goliath match where Goliath always wins is no fun."

"What about that bald superhero Warrior Angel?" asked Clark, spotting a loophole in the stranger's argument.

The stranger laughed. "That's comic books, Clark. Not real life. Trust me, I'm a stranger. Hair - it's the omnipresent force. A fifth-dimensional imp that you'll one day encounter observed that, if you sit far enough back from reality, its many strands form not so much a multiverse as a mulletverse."

"You've got to be kidding me," groaned an exasperated Clark.

"Yes, of course I am, Clark. You're so much fun to kid. I was also attempting to interject some levity, although by the look on your face it appears that I failed. Anyway my story's about to get darker, Clark, as dreams are destroyed and death makes its presence felt."

"And there'll be some snow presumably," added Clark, remembering the story's title.

"No, Clark. No snow. After all, as you pointed out earlier, it never snows in Smallville. Now, let me continue with my story."

* * *

Whitney had been busy with football practice but now that was finished with and he was after revenge. He burst into the Luthor ancestral home (well he would have if the door hadn't already been open) and made his way towards the noises of a sword-fencing match. A male and female were engaged in a frantic battle.

"Luthor. Me and you have a score to settle," he shouted at the male combatant.

Lex Luthor held his hand up to Heike to stop the match and then strolled over to Whitney. Chloe had phoned him in advance to warn him about Whitney, but Lex wasn't the least bit scared of anything anymore.

"Whitney, you've come down at last."

"Me and you, Luthor. Outside now."

"Whitney, you made an idle threat to me and I had you strung up in a field. What do you think I'd do to you if you actually struck me."

"I'm willing to find out," replied an angry Whitney.

Lex removed his helmet, revealing his bald head beneath. "Chloe did this, and she did a lot more besides," said Lex, in an attempt to demoralize Whitney. He was reasonably sure that Chloe wouldn't have told Whitney about their night together.

"Neat. Can't top that," replied Whitney, stifling his guffaws, and turned round and left. He'd only told Chloe what had happened this morning and already she'd got revenge for him by removing Lex's precious hair. What a girl. He'd just have to remember never to get on the wrong side of her. As he chuckled to himself, he almost felt sorry for Lex. Almost.

* * *

Later that day, Martha, Jonathan and Edward were just finishing their evening meal, when they heard a knock at the door. While Martha went to answer it, Edward mentally crossed his fingers (which was, of course, the only way he could ever cross them) and wished that it was Chloe.

"Edward, you've got a visitor," Martha announced as she re-entered the room, with the visitor following.

"Hello, Edward. I don't suppose you remember me but my name's Lex Luthor."


	9. Rocks, Scissors, Papers

Chloe Sullivan finally got home after a busy day, albeit a fun one. She'd written the greatest story of her short-but-illustrious career, and dumped Whitney Fordman in a truly spectacular style. The only disappointment had been that Lex was busy tonight, visiting the Kents.

"How's my angel?" asked Gabe, lowering the television volume.

"I'm great, Dad," she answered, giving her customary huge smile, although she didn't really feel that great. For one thing, her back ached, and, for another, she still felt slightly hungover from the previous night.

"Great," replied Gabe, raising the volume once again.

Chloe slumped on the couch and watched the news with her father. All the way through, she couldn't help smiling - within the next few days it would be Edward Kent making the headlines. Finally, when the news had finished, she abandoned her father to his dramas and sitcoms and retreated to her room.

She'd been so busy that day researching and writing her Edward Kent story that she'd not yet had a chance to check out her Gotham rival, Vicki Vale. Logging in to the online edition of The Crusader, she couldn't help but laugh. Vicki was writing about rocks, of all things, claiming that they were converting teenagers into evil mutants. Of course these were special green rocks from that meteor storm of twelve years ago, but still it was ridiculous. Chloe looked at the green angel figurine on her bedside table, a present that Whitney brought back from that time Smallville had a match with Gotham High. As if that would turn her evil - besides it was probably a fake, there was no way the number of meteorites that fell on Gotham could ever compete with the meteorite merchandise demand.

* * *

Lex Luthor had been psyching himself up for this meeting all day, playing _Don't Fear The Reaper_ continuously on his pre-release iPod. He still wasn't sure if he was ready, or even if he'd ever be ready, but at least he'd had the advantage of preparation time.

"I suppose a handshake's out of the question," observed Lex, as he looked around at the shocked faces of the Kent clan.

Martha, who'd let him in, hadn't even realized that the bald visitor was Lex – she was used to seeing him, on the rare times he'd speed past her in his Porsche, with long red hair. For a moment she was worried that Lex's naked scalp was Edward's doing, just like on that day all of those years ago, but then she looked at the agonized expression on her adopted son's face and knew instantly that wasn't the case. Meanwhile, Jonathan Kent eyed Lex suspiciously – he didn't trust Lionel Luthor and he wasn't in any hurry to trust Lex either.

Edward, his hands placed firmly in the pockets of the coat he'd automatically donned the moment he'd heard the door, looked at Lex's face, shorn of all its hair, and remembered the events of twelve years ago. At the same time, looking at Edward, similar memories were stirring in Lex's mind. Whereas outwardly he appeared calm in his jeans and T-shirt, it was that T-shirt, depicting Warrior Angel in the style of Edvard Munch's The Scream, that more accurately reflected his inner emotions.

"Anyway, Edward, I just came here to thank you for rescuing me yesterday," continued Lex, and then paused for a moment, before adding "Well, that's not strictly true."

"What have you come for, Lex?" asked Edward apprehensively.

"I think you know, Edward."

"No, I don't," replied Edward.

"Lex, I think it's time you left," interjected Jonathan, getting up from his seat.

"Well, I think it's time for the truth, Mr. Kent. And not the _aliens built the crop circles_ truths that you espouse. I know that ..." Lex paused for a moment as he realized how ridiculous what he was about to say sounded, "Edward's got scissors for hands."

Jonathan and Martha looked at him with mock surprise and then started laughing.

"Surely, you can't be serious, Lex?" asked Martha.

But the look on Lex's face remained deadly serious. "With all respect, Mrs. Kent, for the majority of the last twelve years I've been more or less a recluse because of what your son did to me. Now, unless Edward's willing to pull a pair of hands out of his pockets, I'm sticking to my accusation."

"So what do you want, Lex?" asked a resigned Jonathan, finally accepting that they could no longer hide the truth about Edward.

"I just want to ask Edward a question and, once he's answered, I'll leave. Needless to say, anything we discuss will be purely confidential."

"And how do we know we can trust you?" asked Jonathan, who didn't trust Lex at all.

"You don't," replied Lex, "but you'll just have to, I'm afraid."

"Ask your question," said Edward, withdrawing his blades from his pockets and resting their tips together in front of him.

* * *

Chloe took some painkillers for her back pain and climbed into the shower. She started to feel better as the warm water ran across her skin, and as she rubbed the shower gel over her body she started to think about the last naked body she'd seen today - Whitney's, just as she'd dumped him. And then she suddenly felt some lumps on her back. Don't panic, she told herself as she started to panic, and the next thing she knew she was out of the shower, frantically clearing the steam from the mirror with her towel. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she prepared to examine her back in the mirror.

As she looked at it, with a mixture of stomach-churning horror and detached fascination, she asked the same question that Lex was now asking Edward:

"Why me?"


	10. In Dreams

Seven hours ago, Chloe had first spotted the two lumps on her back. Since then the lumps had gotten a lot bigger and, through her tears, Chloe could see the lumps stretch and contract as she stared at herself, in disbelief, in her bedroom mirror . All of this time, she was also biting hard into her pillow. She'd never felt pain like this before and all she wanted to do was scream, but that would have woken up Gabe, and she didn't want her father to see her - not like this. And then, suddenly, the pain reached a seemingly never-ending crescendo, as her back gave birth to first one large white feathered wing and then, moments later, a second.

And then all the pain was gone, and Chloe remembered the question that Lex had asked her the previous night:

"Do you believe a man can fly?"

Of course, Lex had only flown in his dreams, but this was Chloe's reality. Grabbing one of the few outfits that would still fit her, she walked over to her window, opened it, and stepped out.

High up on a mountain, so the fables said, there lived a man, a wise man, maybe the wisest man ever. For years, Lex had searched for him, and now, as he stumbled into the cave near the top of this latest mountain, and saw the silhouetted figure before him, seated on the ground, Lex knew that he had finally found him.

"Are you the wise man?" asked Lex.

The figure before him, said nothing, but lit a single candle. Suddenly the figure's jet black hair and white face were slightly more visible.

"Edward?" asked a confused Lex.

"No, I'm not Edward. I just look a bit like him. Here, let me light a few more candles."

As the wise man lit his candles, Lex looked around at the pictures on the walls. Pictures of Lex's life, each with a piece missing.

"I'm looking for answers, wise man," said Lex, as the figure lit the last candle.

"You realize this is all a dream, don't you?" replied the figure.

"It is? But normally when I figure that out, I wake up."

"Normally, yes, but I'm preventing that," replied the figure.

"Why?"

"Believe it or not, I'm trying to help. My sister asked me to."

"Your sister?"

"Yes, you met her yesterday, although you probably don't remember it."

"Why do you talk in riddles?" asked an impatient Lex.

"It's a dream, Lex. That's what people do in dreams. If you want everything to make sense then I can let you wake up."

"But things don't make sense there either," groaned Lex, running a hand through his hair. "And why have I got hair?"

"That's the way you still see yourself, Lex. It's easy to change on the outside, but to change on the inside takes time. Here, let me show you something," the figure said, beckoning Lex further into the cave.

Lex followed the figure further into the cave and slowly the walls changed until Lex found himself back at home watching a series of fencing matches between himself and Heike. With each match, Lex got stronger, faster. In the background "Eye Of The Tiger" was playing.

"What's this?" asked Lex.

"Sssh. Quiet. Just sit back and enjoy the show," replied the figure, offering Lex some popcorn.

"Couldn't you do something about the background music?"

"Sorry, it's your dream," replied the figure, just as, in front of them, Lex graduated onto using two swords at once.

And then Heike disappeared, only to be replaced with Edward Kent, dueling with Lex, and his two swirling swords, and then the room disappeared to be replaced with a corn field. As Edward matched his scissors with Lex's blades, and corn flew all around, it was hard to tell who was winning. Finally, the cloud of corn fell to the ground and only one figure was left standing.

Edward Kent walked off leaving the disarmed Lex lying there, barely conscious in the corn field.

Suddenly the defeated Lex heard a loud ominous deep breathing and looked up at the dark silhouette above him.

"You have learnt well, young Luthor, but you have not beat Eddie yet."

A look of recognition appeared on the bald Lex's face, as he stared up at the new arrival.

"I am your father," replied Lionel Luthor standing over him. "It looks like you could use these."

Lex looked at the hands, Edward's hands, that his father was offering, and then looked at his hands - but those hands, thanks to Edward, were no longer there.

Suddenly the scene shifted yet again, but the ominous deep breathing remained. Somewhere, in a secret hospital, Lex lifted his new hands up in front of him.

"Today, Edward Kent will die by his own hands," he proclaimed, and then gave a maniacal laugh that would have gone on forever if the scene hadn't suddenly shifted yet again.

"Show's over," said the figure, as he and Lex found themselves back in his cave, although the breathing noise still remained.

"What was that?" asked Lex. "Was that my destiny?"

"No, destiny's not my department, just dreams. I'm not saying it won't happen - after all, your dreams just reflect what's going through your mind - but I doubt it. You may defeat Edward, or you may end up giving him his hands back ..."

"So, that's my choice: Warrior or Angel?" interrupted Lex.

"No, Lex, unfortunately you dream in black and white, but life's mainly made up of shades of grey. You've just got to find a balance."

"So, you've not got any answers?" asked a despairing Lex.

"Afraid not," replied the figure, "although I could tell you the ultimate truth if that would help."

"Sure, wise man, go ahead."

"No, you better go. That breathing's sounding awfully loud."

"Don't worry," replied Lex, as realization dawned, "that's just my dream. My subconscious made you look like Edward Kent and my father sound like Darth Vader."

"Wrong on both counts," replied the figure, as Lex left his realm of dreams.

Lex woke up gasping for breath and grabbing for his inhaler. As he tried to regulate his breathing, he noticed the open bedroom window opposite him. And then he saw Chloe, sitting on the wooden floor beside the window, her wings wrapped around her.

"Hi, Lex. Sorry for dropping in so late. Can we talk?"


	11. Who Keeps Atlantis Off The Maps?

Words normally came easy to Lex Luthor, but at that instant, looking at Chloe and her wings, he was hard pressed for an opening line, and so, for once, he opted for silence.

"Wow, this is an awkward silence," observed Chloe, her face looking down towards the floor. She was afraid to look at Lex's face, afraid of seeing his reaction to her newly-acquired plumage.

"I'm sorry, Chloe. It's just that I'm comfortable with silence. Guess that what becomes of being a semi-recluse half of my life," replied Lex. "If it helps I can go through all of the unsuitable opening lines that I've come up with, although I'm suspecting this is one of those cases where words just aren't sufficient."

Chloe lifted her head and nodded. Lex could tell from her face that she'd been crying, whereas Lex's face revealed nothing to Chloe.

"You've got wings!" exclaimed Lex, raising his hands in the air in a melodramatic gesture, and then added "But I guess that's kind of stating the obvious."

Chloe smiled, which encouraged Lex to go through some of his other abandoned openings:

" _Heaven must be missing an angel_ \- way too cheesy. _Do they tickle?_ \- which sounds totally uncaring but I must admit I'm kind of curious. _Wow, that'll make a great story_ \- another uncaring one. Come to think of it, all the rest of my opening lines are totally flippant and uncaring - you're a writer, what should I say?"

Chloe got up from the floor, walked over to Lex and put a hand on his shoulder. "You did fine, Lex, although I have to say this is one story I'll keep to myself."

"But surely the public has a right to know," responded Lex teasingly. "What about your journalistic ethics?"

"First rule of flight club - don't talk about flight club," countered Chloe, although deep down inside she knew Lex was right. What sort of self-respecting reporter would hide the fact they could fly? Especially if, like the Gotham freaks Vicki Vale wrote about, there was a chance she might turn evil. Surely those close to her deserved to know the truth, if only for their own safety.

"So, what happened?" asked Lex, interrupting Chloe's train of thought.

"As far as I can tell a meteor rock's caused me to mutate. I've got wings. I can fly. Otherwise I'm the same as ever. How about you?"

"Things have changed," he said, and then, after a brief pause, continued. "First there was the visit to the Kents..."

"What happened?" asked Chloe, concerned about Lex's change in tone.

"I can't say. I gave them my word," was the only response Lex was willing to give. "I'm sorry."

"So, how have things changed?" demanded Chloe.

"Well, after I got back from the Kents, there was a message on my answering machine. My associates had tracked down 1989's scarecrow, one Jeremy Creek, the only eyewitness to Edward's attack on me. He was working as an electrician just outside Metropolis. Anyway, I'd always remembered Edward attacking me with his scissors, but, according to Mr Creek, Edward was trying as hard as he could just to cut the hair, and no other part, of that small panicking boy I once was - I guess the fact that I survived the incident with only minor cuts ties in more with Mr Creek's memories than mine. Anyway, I've been giving it some thought, even dreaming about it, and now I've reached a decision. My vendetta with Edward ... It's over. He's your story now - not mine."

Chloe looked at Lex stunned. She felt betrayed. Where was the Lex who'd wanted to destroy Edward Kent?

"But, Lex, you can't ..."

"No, Chloe, I'm afraid I can."

Chloe and Lex stared silently at each other for a long while, and then Chloe turned and walked away from him.

"Chloe," Lex said, just as she was about to leave. Chloe turned her head towards him.

"Close the window on your way out."

* * *

_Hold me_

Those were the two words that Chloe had wanted to say to Lex tonight more than any others, but, for some unknown reason, she couldn't. Maybe she was afraid that Lex would reject her (her mother's walking out on her all those years ago had left her with a strong fear of rejection) or maybe she didn't want to get too close to Lex just in case she did turn evil.

Still, whilst these thoughts occupied Chloe on her flight home, once she was indoors all thoughts of Lex were forgotten. To tell the truth, she hadn't actually visited the Luthor ancestral home to visit Lex, it was just that he'd happened to wake up on her way out. What she'd actually been there for was to look for Lex's Luthorcorp password so that she could search for any further information on the mysterious Edward Kent. Admittedly, Edward was so besotted with her that he'd tell her everything about himself anyway, but where was the fun in that.

Chloe sat in front of her laptop and typed in the password that she'd found. Minutes later she'd acquired the highest security clearance and was searching through the files for any references to Edward Kent or Scissor Hands. It was all too easy.

As she read through the various files that she found, Chloe couldn't believe what she was reading. Edward Kent, who turned out to be an android no less, was merely the tip of the iceberg. According to these files the lost city of Atlantis actually existed and one of Lionel Luthor's scientists had transported a Martian to Earth. Suddenly Chloe's unerring journalistic instincts took over - there was no way what she was reading could be true. The information in the files was obviously completely fabricated, designed to keep any infiltrator's attention long enough for them to be traced.

Chloe frantically powered down her laptop before anybody could track back her hacking attempts. However the minute she did this her phone started ringing.

Nervously she picked up the receiver.

"Hello, Miss Sullivan. This is Lionel Luthor. It appears from your searches that we have a common interest. I take it that this Edward Kent you searched for has scissors for hands."

"And you want to destroy him for what he did to Lex?"

Chloe heard laughter come from the other end of the phone line.

"No, quite the contrary. Why would I want Edward destroyed? After all, I own him."


	12. Bridge Over Troubled Waters

Lana Lang had phoned Lex on his cellphone thirty minutes earlier requesting a meeting. As Lex stood on the repaired bridge, looking down into the water that he'd almost drowned in two days earlier, he wondered what message Lana was trying to send with her choice of location. Lost in his memories he didn't even hear her approaching.

"Lex, stay away from Edward Kent," Lana said, dragging Lex into the present.

Lex looked at Lana, dressed head to toe in black.

"Who exactly are you?" asked Lex.

"I'm Lana Lang," answered Lana Lang. " I'm Edward's best friend and I've come here to threaten you. Be afraid. Be very afraid."

"And why exactly should I stay away from Edward?" asked a curious, and totally unafraid, Lex.

"Yesterday Pete Ross phoned me, warning me that you seemed obsessed with Edward, and this morning Edward tells me that you visited him last night, although he won't go into any further details."

"So, I've got Pete Ross to thank for this meeting. Well, at least that explains how you got my cellphone number."

"He's worried about you, Lex. He says that you've changed."

"I guess I have," replied Lex. "Don't worry, Miss Lang. I'll make things up with Pete."

"I don't really care about Pete," admitted Lana. "Edward's why I'm here."

"You don't need to worry about Edward. There was an incident, a long time ago, between us. Anyway, last night I found out the reason for why he'd done what he'd done all those years ago. Turns out he was just another non-member of my father's fan club. Anyway, the incident seems to have caused him almost as much upset as it did me. Maybe it's time we both tried to put it behind us. Bygones."

"Are you always this enigmatic?" asked Lana, amazed by the lack of actual detail in his answer.

"That would be telling," replied Lex enigmatically.

"So, you're going to stay away from Edward?" asked Lana.

"I'm planning on leaving," replied Lex, staring down into the dark waters below.

"Don't blame you," nodded Lana. "As soon as I can I'll be out of Smallville."

"Metropolis?" asked Lex.

"No, Fritz Lang may have been interested in Metropolis but Lana Lang certainly isn't. It's nowhere near far enough away. I'm talking the other side of the world, at the very least."

"You don't plan on coming back to Smallville?"

"No. Once maybe. To visit my parents. Well, their graves to be precise... and that's just so I can build a dance floor over them." Lana smiled at Lex, but he didn't smile back.

"The person Edward needs to be wary of is Chloe," warned Lex, suddenly serious.

"Well, to tell the truth, I think Chloe's spell on Edward's finally broken."

"Really?" enquired a surprised Lex.

"Really," replied a smiling Lana. "Looks like Eddie's finally come to his senses. Then again he claimed he saw a blue fairy last night. Probably a bird or a plane, I told him. Then again he was probably kidding - he's got a strange sense of humor."

"He's not like you or me," observed Lex.

"Of course he is. He just wears his scars on the outside," replied Lana and then looked at Lex, noticing the small scars on his lips and around his head. "Who cut your hair by the way? They must have been drunk."

Lex laughed. "You're hardly one to criticize other people's appearances," he responded good-naturedly. "You seem to have based your whole look on Edward Kent."

"I dressed like this long before Edward Kent came along," replied Lana defensively. "Besides at least I don't go around wearing a T-shirt with my own face on it."

"It's Warrior Angel," explained Lex.

"Well, duh, I know that. I was only kidding, Lex. Besides, when all's said and done it's still pretty geeky."

"You reckon I should dress like you and Eddie?" replied a bemused Lex.

"No, I doubt you could carry off black."

"You're probably right," replied Lex and turned away.

Lana and Lex would never talk again after that day, mainly because one of them would be dead.


	13. Blade Runner

Chloe Sullivan was standing in The Torch's office, wearing a long black coat with unfeasibly large shoulder pads, when she saw Edward Kent's silhouette appear at the door. Quickly she opened the door and ushered Edward inside.

"Hi, Edward. Sorry I didn't catch you this morning as planned, but a couple of things came up ... totally unforeseen. Anyway, today's the big day. The press conference is planned for tonight and ..."

"Cancel it," interrupted Edward.

"But it's all arranged. Sure you're nervous but you'll get over it. They'll love you, really they will."

"It's not about me," explained Edward. "It's about you, Chloe."

"What about me?" asked Chloe, confused.

"Last night, I went to that field with your face and I found ..."

"Whitney," exclaimed Chloe, realization dawning.

"That's right. He said you'd gotten the football team to leave him tied up there as a scarecrow, and then you'd gone and dumped him."

"Yes, but I can explain," replied Chloe. "He lied to me ... about you. He almost destroyed my story. I admit that tying him up in that field was neither nice nor original, but you've got to forgive me, Edward."

"When I found Whitney he was hoarse from shouting," recalled Edward aloud. "I helped him down, gave him another one of my coats, and then stayed there, looking at your face in that field and wondering how you could have done such a thing. And then I looked in the sky and I saw a blue fairy."

"That was me. I was coming to untie Whitney, but then I spotted you'd already done it," lied Chloe. Actually, having discovered her mutation was due to Whitney's gift, she was about to, in a moment of what could possibly be viewed as evil, introduce the hoarse Fordman to his own apocalypse.

"It doesn't matter. The story's over." Chloe had never seen Edward so serious before.

"But you've got to do it," pleaded a desperate Chloe. "We've already started work on the merchandising. Some plastic scissor hands have already been dropped at your home for you to approve."

Edward started to turn away.

"But I'm in partnership with Lionel Luthor," added Chloe. "He owns you. He's still got the receipts."

Edward continued to turn away.

Finally, a desperate Chloe threw her coat off, revealing her wings. "Us freaks have got to stick together."

Edward turned back to Chloe. "Chloe, could you please open the door for me."

* * *

Later that day, as darkness was falling, a breathless Lana Lang arrived at the Kents' farm to find Edward standing in a barn, looking at some shoddy plastic scissor hands.

"Show me your hands," she yelled at him, tears running down her cheeks.

Slowly Edward took his scissor hands out of his pockets.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, stunned by the sight before her. "I thought we were friends."

"I wanted us to stay friends," replied Edward calmly. "I guess the press conference went ahead without me then."

"It's worse than that," Lana said. "Chloe came out with this story that you'd attacked a young Lex Luthor in a field. The townsfolk have gathered into an angry mob and they're heading over here. Nothing will stop them - Lex tried to stop them but they didn't believe it was him with that new haircut; Whitney tried to get them to stop and they just overpowered him and tied him up in a field. Fortunately mobs aren't very fast so I managed to get here before them."

"Maybe I should wait here and try and discuss things with them," reasoned Edward.

"No, Edward," explained Lana. "You've got to hide."

* * *

A scissor-handed figure fled from the Kents farm only to be followed by the angry mob. Fortunately, as Lana had stated, mobs weren't very fast and the distance between the figure and the mob grew and grew.

Unfortunately, the mob weren't the only people in pursuit of the figure. From high in the sky a winged figure took aim with a stone and threw it with unerring accuracy. Far below the figure collapsed to the ground.

"Rock breaks scissors," thought Chloe, as she saw the mob catching up to the fallen figure.

Of course, from that distance Chloe hadn't noticed that the figure wasn't quite as tall as Edward Kent, and the first member of the mob to reach the figure and smash their MONSTER placard over the figure's head was too caught up in the moment to notice the figure's lack of stature. In fact the figure had undergone considerable pummeling before somebody noticed that the scissor hands weren't real but plastic, and the figure was turned over to reveal the pale face of Lana Lang.

* * *

Later, at the Smallville morgue, one of the workers picked up the ringing phone.

"Hello," he answered.

"Hello," replied the confused voice at the other end of the line. "Is Lana Lang there?"

"Yes, she's just got here."

"Could I please speak to her?"

He slammed down the phone. Another crank call.


	14. Funeral For A Friend

They all wore black for Lana's funeral - even Lex - it was what Lana would have wanted.

Edward stood there, scissors hanging down, Jonathan stoically holding back his tears on one side of him, Martha blubbering away on the other. Edward realized then that the things he needed even more than hands were tear ducts.

As his cookie heart felt like it was crumbling within him, he looked over at Chloe and, beside her, Lionel Luthor. Before the funeral had even begun, Lionel had told him that they still had his hands, that he could finally be whole ... for a price. But it didn't matter anymore. All of his life he'd wanted to fit in, but the person who mattered to him most, Lana, had never fitted in. If there was one thing she'd taught Edward it was that it was okay to be an outsider.

He wished that he could stop blaming himself for what happened to Lana but, despite what Jonathan and Martha kept telling him, he knew that it was all his fault.

* * *

Tears welled up in Chloe Sullivan's eyes. Lana's death was all her fault.

Lana was only supposed to have acted as a decoy for the mob, while Edward escaped in the opposite direction. As soon as the mob would have got anywhere near Lana, she would have dropped her plastic scissor hands. But Chloe had intervened, spoilt the plan, and Lana had died.

As soon as Chloe had realized what had happened, she'd gone looking for Edward. It didn't take her long to find him, and then, using strength she didn't know she had, she'd flown him back to where Lana's inert body had been. But by then it was too late - the mob had gone and Lana's body had been taken away. All that remained was a broken piece off a blood-stained placard.

She'd looked at Edward on that night and remembered that, if Lionel's files were to be believed, he was built to be a warrior, and, for just a second, an image of Edward attacking her and a snowstorm of crimson feathers had flashed through her mind. But Edward was no more a warrior than she was an angel. He just stood there, motionless, looking at the upside-down blood-stained placard piece and the word that appeared to be on it:

SNOW

* * *

Edward left the funeral service halfway through. Lana was gone, because of him, and nothing could bring her back. The others could remember her in their way, but he'd remember her in his, with shears rather than tears.

Ten minutes later, in the largest cornfield in Smallville, he started work on his greatest, and last, crop picture - Lana Lang. And finally, when that was done, he did the thing that hurt most, but it had to be done - nobody else was going to get hurt because of him.

Edward Kent walked off into the sunset, away from Smallville.

He never came back.


	15. When It Rains It Snows

"And that's the end of the story," said the stranger.

"What? That's it?" asked an incredulous Clark. "But what happened to Edward?"

"Some say that, inspired by the mis-read word on the placard, he set off to the arctic to do ice sculptures of Lana Lang until the end of time."

"Leaving Smallville to trek off to the arctic? What sort of idiot would do that?"

"Others say that he spent the rest of eternity wandering the realities telling his story to anyone who'd listen."

"But who'd be stupid enough to listen to that?" asked Clark (which was a rhetorical question but Clark didn't realize it). Then a thought struck Clark and he tried to use his X-ray vision to look through the stranger's cloak, but to no avail. Feeling a drop of rain hitting his hair (which made him smile - his hair looked even cooler wet) Clark attempted to put his thought into words: "Wait a minute, all of this time and I've not seen your hands. Surely you're not ..."

The stranger smiled at Clark. "Clark, your ability to add two and two together and come up with five is indeed formidable. Of all the origins that people have tried to attribute to me throughout the years that is certainly the most outlandish."

Clark smiled at the stranger. It was nice to be called formidable."So, tell me about some of the other realities," requested Clark. "Some that aren't made up. No offence, but I can't really relate to Edward Scissorhands."

"And it's no surprise, young Clark. For Edward was an outsider, who tried so hard to fit in, but never could. What could you possibly have in common with him? I could tell you about all sorts of amazing realities, Clark. One where you're a genetic follow-up to Stitch, another where you and Lex fall out when you destroy his comic collection, another where Superman, not Clark, wears the glasses, and then there's that weird reality where Clark Kent's a pervert who spies on Lana Lang through his telescope and uses his X-ray vision to look in the girls' locker room ... oh, wait a minute..."

But Clark was not listening to the stranger anymore, for his mind was filled with the tale of Edward, and how he'd inadvertently caused Lana Lang's death . And then he remembered the film where Edward stayed young forever while his sweetheart just grew older. And then he realized that he was more like Edward than he thought, and that he could never be with Lana, for he loved her too much and he could not bear to see her die or even grow old (for growing old was also, technically speaking, dying - just in a very prolonged drawn-out manner).

And with the realization that Lana could never be his, Clark felt a coldness within, a coldness he'd never felt before, and, because misery loves company, he wanted to share that coldness with the rest of Smallville, so that they could feel just a fraction of the desolation which he felt inside. As the rain started to fall faster, he turned his head up to the heavens, opened his mouth wide, and blew as as far and as hard as he could unleashing the icyness within him.

Above him, and above Smallville itself, the rain water momentarily stopped falling, propelled upwards by Clark's icy breath, and turned crystalline. Before long, thick snow was falling down all around and Clark just looked up, wide-mouthed, at this metaphor for the way his heart felt.

* * *

Lana looked at Pete. She could do worse for a boyfriend, she thought. He had to be better than the freaks she usually ended up with. Of course she really wanted Clark, but then again Pete accentuated her incredible good looks far, far better. Just the thought of this made her smile, a smile so wide and beautiful that Pete was lost in it. He didn't even notice when the snow started falling.

Lana saw the snow, the first snow to ever fall in Smallville, and squealed in delight. Then she started dancing, just like Winona Ryder in that film she couldn't remember the name of, and then she looked at Pete and laughed at the confused, bemused, bewitched expression on his face. He hadn't even noticed the snow, and at that moment she realized that he must really love her and smiled some more.

She walked up to Pete and their lips met and the rest is history.

* * *

Eventually Clark could blow no more and he sat down exhausted on the thick snow beneath him. It was then that he noticed the stranger had gone, not even leaving any footprints in the snow. The only thing he'd left behind was a snow angel ... with very large wings.


	16. Epilogue

And so I finish telling Clark the _Snow_ story and look over at him. I can't believe it - the guys got tears in his eyes. I must be one heck of a storyteller.

Anyway, then the nurse that's looking after my Dad turns up (he keeps telling me that she's the Grim Reaper in disguise come to take him away - him and his stories).

"Hey, Clark, remember me," she says. "We met that one time. You were wearing a different outfit."

"You too," replies Clark, obviously recognizing her. "What's with the pink?"

"Lana can be very persuasive."

Clark nods. "How's Pete doing?"

"A case of the stubborns. He refuses to move until he sees snow."

"A shame he doesn't really know Superman," I say, attempting to join in. "Then again, there's no rain forecast."

"Go look after your Dad, Alex," Clark says to me, unbuttoning his collar, "I've got a job to do."

* * *

So I'm sat by my Dad's bedside with the nurse, and we're looking out of the window at the cloudless evening sky when all of a sudden some dark clouds start to roll in.

"Where did they come from?" I ask.

"He blew them here," says my Dad, telling his tall tales to the last. And then the rain starts falling, heavily, and we hear the raindrops pounding against the window, but then the pounding stops and outside the window there's no longer rain, but snow.

I run up to the window and look, up in the sky, and there beneath one of the clouds I see him, pirouetting round and round, a magenta blur, the rain around him getting converted to snow by his icy breath.

But where I see Superman in the snow, Dad only sees Lana, dancing like she did all those years ago.

And the night closes in.

_THE END_


End file.
